“Okay,” she said. “Did you get a tattoo? It’s okay if you did. I mean, I don’t love them, but you’re old enough to make your own bad choices.”
“I didn’t get a tattoo,” I said. “And I wouldn’t avoid you for days if I did.”
“Noted,” she said. “And I didn’t realize you’ve been avoiding me.”
“Mom, Uncle Fazio died,” I said.
Silence from her end. I heard the host of WXPN say something muffled, and a new song came on, something pop-punkish with a jazzy guitar riff.
“Who?” she asked.
“Mom,” I said. “Your brother Fazio. Don’t act like you don’t know who I mean.”
“I don’t have a brother, dear,” she said, her voice sounding strained and higher pitched. “You know that. I left that all behind.”
“I know,” I said. “And I’ve never asked about them or pushed to get to know them. But just because you left them, doesn’t mean that they’ve left us.”
“You’re upsetting me,” she said.
“Mom, just listen, okay?”
“What happened? Are you in trouble?”
“Uncle Fazio left me money,” I said. “He left me a lot… a lot of money.”
She sucked in a breath and I thought she might have hung up, but the music kept playing, going from up-tempo verse into an expansive and screeching chorus.
“Mom?” I asked.
“He left you money,” she said. “I don’t understand.”
“He died, Mom, and a bunch of lawyers appeared at my apartment a few days ago. They showed me all these papers, talked about wills and all that, and apparently Fazio left me money. A lot of money.”
“No,” she said. “He wouldn’t do that. He barely knew you.”
“I don’t know why he would, but he did,” I said. “I never asked for it. Never got in touch with him. Did he have children?”
“No,” she said. “No children. No wife, either. Fazio… was never the type to settle down. Or to have children.”
“That would explain the amount of money he left me.”
“Don’t joke, Clair,” she said, her voice sharp. “Don’t you joke right now. This isn’t the time.”
“Okay, Mom,” I said, keeping my voice soft and level. “I know you’re freaked out. Imagine how I felt when the lawyers were in my apartment, making me sign things, and how I felt when they showed me the accounts I was inheriting.”
“How much did he leave you?” she asked.
“A few million,” I said.
Silence again. The song ended with a wail from the singer. A little indulgent, I thought. Kind of stupid, actually.
“A few million,” she said.
“More than a few,” I said. “More like twelve.”
“Twelve million dollars.” She let out a sharp, crazed laugh. “My estranged brother, my bastard mafia brother, left you twelve million dollars.”
“And some property,” I said. “A bunch of property, actually, out in Chicago. I think that’s worth a lot too, but I don’t know. I don’t really understand any of this. The lawyers just came, and said it was all mine, and I signed documents, and—”
“Where are you right now?” she asked.
“That’s the other thing,” I said.
“Clair, you’re scaring me. Where are you right now?”
“I’m in one of Uncle Luciano’s safe houses,” I said.
She took a sharp breath and I waited for her to scream, but the scream never came.
“You’re joking,” she said.
“No,” I said. “I’m really sorry. I don’t understand it either. The lawyers left, and I didn’t hear anything for a day, I was just trying to process it all, and then Uncle Luciano showed up this morning, saying how I was in danger now because of Fazio, and he hauled me off to this… this house.”
“Are you safe?” she asked. “Are they hurting you?”
“What? No, they’re not hurting me,” I said.
“You have to get away from them,” Mom said. “Stay where you are. I’ll… I’ll call the police. I’ll come get you myself. Just tell me where you are.”
“Mom,” I said. “I can’t do that and you can’t call the cops.”
“What? Are you insane? Do you have any idea what kind of people you’re dealing with?” Her voice rose higher and higher in pitch until she sounded like she might scream for real, might lose herself completely.
“I know,” I said. “But he owns the cops, right? He owns half the city. If he wants to hurt me, he’s going to hurt me. But I don’t think that’s what he wants.”
“You didn’t think so?” She barked a laugh. “You talked to him, didn’t you? You listened to him.”
“It was hard not to,” I said.
“You can’t listen to Luciano,” she said. “He’s dangerous, Clair. He’ll hurt you if it’s in his best interests. You have to understand that.”
“I know,” I said. “I know what he is. But I can’t do anything else.”
“You can run. You can tell me where you are.”
“Mom, I’m sorry.”
“Clair—”
“Mom, please, I just wanted to tell you that I’m okay. I’m going to stay here for now. I don’t want Uncle Luciano to do something drastic and drag you into this, okay? So I’m going to stay put. I have my phone, so I can call you. But please, don’t call the police, don’t do anything.”